Reborn Revolution
by Regal290
Summary: Sam was just a daring, new pokemon trainer. But on his first day out to the lab, his life is changed forever...
1. Chapter 1

_**Here it is, my new reborn story. This will be written in third person view, because I suck at first person, so let's not waste any time. I present to you… (Enter title of story)**_

_Sam stood at the edge of the arena, watching as hundreds of people screamed and cheered him on, in the final round of the Silver Conference. He watched as his opponent's Electrode fell in defeat. Then it began to glow, and…_

RIIIIIIIIIIINNNNGG!

Sam's bedside clock sounded like one thousand Beedrill stinging the inside of his head. He groaned loudly and slammed at his bedside table, miraculously hitting the snooze button on his first try. He sat up in bed, rubbing his brown eyes and pushing his untidy black hair out of his face. "Man…" He said to himself. "I keep forgetting to turn the alarm off on Saturdays. I always wake up so early…" as he voiced his complaints to nobody in particular, he got out of bed and got dressed in his favorite clothes: A black T-shirt, blue jeans, and a red jacket to top it off. He trudged downstairs, and stopped. "Wait…" Sam ran to the nearest calendar. He ripped off the sheet for January, revealing that today was… "February First! My Birthday!" And indeed it was. Sam was out the door before anyone could've stopped him.

Sam arrived at Professor Elm's lab roughly twenty minutes later, Sam was about to knock on the door, but a loud crash from within froze him. For a few seconds, Sam stood there, unsure what to do. Then he made the decision to open the door to investigate.

He opened the door and slowly said, "Professor Elm? Are you ok?" The lab looked ransacked. Sam looked around at a variety of scattered papers, a broken microscope, and a table with a flattened birthday cake. He realized that Professor Elm must've prepared for his birthday with a cake. He looked around curiously for the Professor, but the lab was deserted. Sam walked around, slowly taking in all the destruction, his joy about his birthday decreasing with every image his eyes registered.

There was another crash, followed by a scream. "Get away! Get away, I say!"

"Professor!" Sam recognized Professor Elm's voice and ran to the source. He found, in the back of the lab, a door of steel labeled, "Pokeball Storage." Sam noticed a key card slot, but it was fried, and the door was unlocked. Sam ripped the door open and ran inside, not caring what was on the other side. He stopped in the middle of the room, and looked around. "Professor, where are you?" The one other time Sam had been in this room, there had been eight rows of perfectly organized bookshelves filled with pokeballs, from Abomasnow to Zubat. Now, there were considerably more pokeballs, at least 150 more, but the shelves were all knocked over, and the pokeballs were knocked astray. Also in the room were Professor Elm, his spindly figure and light brown hair standing out among the sea of red and white pokeballs, and four pokemon: Rhyhorn, Yanmega, Seviper, and also one new pokemon that Sam didn't recognize, but it looked like across between a Larvitar and a Mudkip.

The Professor eyed Sam. "Sam!" He shouted, his eyes wild. "Get out of here!"

Sam had no intention of leaving. The Professor was in danger! He bent down and picked up a pokeball and shouted, "I'm not leaving you, Professor! Go, Pokemon!" Sam threw the pokeball with vigor, but nothing came out. In fact, the pokeball didn't even open. For, as Sam learned later, cracked pokeballs didn't open, and were quite useless until repaired. It hit the Yanmega, breaking all of its wings. It fell to the ground, knocked out.

Professor Elm saw this and whimpered. For Sam's action, while saving the professor, had attracted the attention of the others. The Seviper and Larvitar-Mudkip thing both advanced on Sam, while the Rhyhorn kept the Professor cornered. Sam wildly looked for another pokeball, but they were all cracked, so that they wouldn't open. Sam then used the only weapon available to him: His fists. He threw a punch at the really little one, the one that looked like Larvitar. It flew back, fainted. Sam marveled at the power he had punched with, and realized that the pokemon was newly hatched.

However, his lapse gave the Seviper a chance to whip its tail at Sam, lashing his arm and making it useless. Sam grimaced at the cut and looked back up. He dodged beneath the Seviper's deadly wrap and wrapped up its neck in a one-arm chokehold. At first, the poison snake writhed horribly, but after a while, it went limp, obviously knocked out from lack of oxygen.

Sam turned back around to see the Rhyhorn about to rear up on both legs and smash Professor Elm, but Sam ran over and did the first thing that came to mind: He grabbed onto the Rhyhorn's back spines. The Rhyhorn, surprised, started running in circles, trying to look at the thing on it's back. It ran around in circles, and fell down, dizzy. Sam checked carefully before getting off Rhyhorn's back, and turned to Professor Elm. "Are you alright, Professor?"

Professor Elm stared at Sam as if he had never seen him before. "S-Sam, that was amazing!"

Sam waved off the compliment. "Professor, what happened here?"

As The Professor stood up, he said, "I was investigating a recently discovered Pokemon egg, all the way form the Isshu region." Professor Elm gestured to the unconscious Larvitar/Mudkip. "It's called Kibago. When I was looking at it's egg, it hatched, and it was violent; violent beyond compare. It broke into the back room, and knocked over all the shelves, releasing the Rhyhorn, Seviper, and Yanmega. Then without warning, they all attacked me. If you hadn't come when you did…"

Sam smiled. "I guess it would be improper to ask for a Cyndaquil right now?" Then, a sudden wave of fatigue rocked Sam, and his head felt dizzy. Sam realized that the fighting must've taken more out of him than he had originally thought.

Professor Elm grimaced. "No… All the pokeballs are broken, and the pokemon inside are trapped. I can't have any ready for a while. But, there ARE pokemon eggs that I can offer. Some are close to hatching, if you're interested?"

Sam considered it, is head throbbing. "It doesn't feel right asking right after all this mayhem… But if you're offering, then… I don't see why not."

Professor Elm helped Sam to his feet, and began to search for something. "Then come on. The pokemon will wake up soon, and we need to get them all in their pokeballs. After five minutes of searching among near-identical pokeballs, the correct three were eventually found, and the pokemon returned.

Sam followed Professor Elm back into the main room, where they went through yet another door. Sam's head was hurting even more, and he was having trouble seeing in front of him. "Now, as you can see, we have only very few eggs left, and I'm reluctant to let go of any of them… Sam, are you all right?" Sam barely heard him. Then, he saw nothing.

_**BOOM! My newest story is up! The first chapter is rather short, but I'm still happy with it. Please Comment, and I'll be sure to work hard on this! Can anyone guess why Sam fainted?**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2 of my new story is here! I know some of you are disappointed that I took down my old one, but that's exactly why I made this story! Be happy! Here we go…**_

Sam opened his eyes. He shook his head back and forth, confused, for it was pitch-black. He blinked a couple times, yet the darkness remained. When he tried to push his arms outward, he found himself unable, for some strange reason, Sam was immobilized. Sam was scared. "What the heck is going on?" He screamed to nobody in particular. He pushed against his mystical bonds, but to no avail. Sam sighed and resigned himself to the darkness. For an indeterminate amount of time, in that dark enclosed space, Sam rested. Well, rested is a bit of a misnomer. Sam was scared the crap out of his mind. He shifted uncomfortably, and during some point of his imprisonment, he developed a strong sense of claustrophobia. He constantly screamed and kicked, and his only rest was when he stopped kicking. After what seemed like eternity to Sam, he felt something give. For the first time, Sam felt some hope. He kicked harder than he ever had before, and felt something give. He kicked against his bonds one final time, and suddenly, his body stretched out. He gasped as the bright light hit his face. But something was wrong. "Hello?" He asked, looking around. Then he realized two things. Everything was unnaturally big, for one. Secondly, when he turned his head, nothing ever went out of his sight, only shifted to the left or right of his line of sight. Curious, yet almost scared as he had been when he regained consciousness, Sam stood up. But when he did, he realized that he had barely stood up at all. More than just something was wrong, the whole world was out of sync. For some reason, everything was blown up to twenty times its normal size. He shakily looked around, feeling smaller than ever before. He noticed, as before, that when he turned his head, nothing went out of his sight, only shifted between the front and side of his eyes. If something went off the left side of his vision, it immediately reappeared on the right side.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. He opened his eyes again, and decided it would be best to actually register his surroundings, and not just look around without noticing. So he did.

Sam was in a rectangular room that appeared to be abandoned, for at least ten years. The dim room was made of both concrete and steel, but the concrete was in patches, as if the steel once covered the entire wall, but had somehow rusted away, exposing the concrete underneath. There was a spot that looked to be slightly indented, about ten feet away from where Sam was standing. There were light bulb sockets throughout the room, but only a few, low-wattage ones were still emitting light, given the room a haunted appearance. There were no doors.

Sam then turned his attention to the ground. Many pieces of wood littered the floor, along with the crumbling remains of many stone pillars. Brown shards of some material littered the ground around Sam, but there were none any other place. Sam kicked a shard and began to walk around, but something caught his attention. The small brown shard, reflected the light from one of the last light bulbs, and Sam turned back to face it. He peered into the mirror-like piece of matter… And screamed as loud as he could.

What he saw was not human.

It was a Yanma.

Sam took several steps backwards, barely missing a rather large piece of rock, thanks to his 360-vision. He screamed again, to no avail. He had somehow turned into a Yanma! "What the hell is going on?" He screamed in terror. He almost fainted from fright, but barely managed to stay conscious. He took deep breaths, not knowing, but definitely caring, what had happened. After what seemed like hours, Sam's heart stopped thumping in his ear, and he was able to think clearly, but almost immediately, the questions he had bee scared of began whispering inside his head once more. How and why had this happened? Where was he? Sam forced his head to shut down for a moment, and thought of the possibilities. Sam didn't know much about Yanma, because his preference was fire and dark types, but he DID know that Yanma could fly within hours of their birth, so he carefully turned his head to look at his back. Surprisingly, his eyes somehow didn't see his wings. Sam knew that in this crazy, psychotic dream he was having, he would have wings if he were a Yanma. He carefully clenched his back muscles, and when nothing happened, Sam drooped his head and relaxed his muscles, and suddenly felt a brief moment of weightlessness.

Sam automatically tensed up again, but the feeling quickly passed, and Sam relaxed once more… And the feeling returned. Sam was getting angry. What the heck was going on? Then he realized: His back muscles were also the wing muscles! When he clenched his back, the wings on his back raised. When he relaxed, his wings lowered. He now knew how to fly!

Sam shouted in elation. He quickly clenched and unclenched his back, and after a second of struggling, his feet lifted off the ground. The feeling was so surprising, to be flying without the aid of an airplane, that he promptly fell, landing on his stomach. He quickly got up, pleased with his first attempt. He tried again, with slightly less limited success. He managed to get at least five feet off the ground before falling.

The third time, Sam achieved liftoff. When he felt the strange feeling of weightlessness, he kept flapping his wings, and something within him began to beat the wings incredibly fast. It wasn't something he was doing, but instinct was making his back twitch restlessly, and Sam's wings beat at a supersonic speed. "I'm doing it!" He shouted. "I'm flying! I'm flying!" Sam flew around the room, tilting his body to the side to turn. "I'm flying!" He shouted again. Nothing he had ever felt before compared to the sheer joy of walking without the ground under you. That is, flying. He had never felt such rapture as this, never been so… ALIVE.

Sam whooped in joy for who knows how long, but after the thrill had begun to pass, Sam's next worry was: how did he stop? Sam's joy pooped like a balloon, quickly replaced with fear. "Help?" He uttered. The single syllable hung in the air for a moment before he dropped like a stone. Sam twisted and turned, landing on his back. The pain was like a lightning bolt ripping through his body, as a rapid current would flow down a river. He writhed in agony, and time came to a standstill. By some good luck, Sam's spasms forced him to flip over, bringing relief to the aching muscles. Sweat drenched his body, and with some effort, he forced his mind back into his control. Sam gasped as he stood up on all six legs..

He would never get this right. But through the whole experience, in the back of his mind, Sam had been thinking the same thing over and over, almost as if in a pattern: _How? Who? Why? ... How? Who? Why?... _Over and over again. He had often read books in his free time, containing myths and legends about humans turning into pokemon, but that had always been under the influence of an outside agent, whether it be a bacterium or godly interference. He had not seen the fabled Mew before the transformation. He had last been in a contained, stabilized area when he had blacked out. So why had this happened? _How? Who? Why?_

Sam decided that nothing good would come from doing nothing, so he shakily took a few steps forward and tried to lift off. But when he clenched his back, the pain returned, and Sam went reeling once more. Sam gasped, and realized that this was no dream. If he had been dreaming, he wouldn't feel pain. This was real.

And another undesired side effect was that now his wings were broken. He couldn't fly, he was in a new, newborn body, and he was in a solid concrete room. Things couldn't get any worse. Then Sam was struck with some inspiration. He was a pokemon, so things might be able to get better! He could use moves! Sam racked his brain for possible moves that a Yanma was able to use. The only thing he could come up with was Tackle, but it might be enough. Now the only question was how to actually USE the move.

Sam decided the best course of action would be to practice, so… he ran headfirst into the wall. Over and over again. When nothing happened, Sam closed his eyes, trying to loose the massive headache he had just acquired. When he did so, he suddenly felt a surge of energy. He had no idea where it came from, but he was empowered to injure himself further.

Sam charged the wall once more… And the concrete crumbled under the pressure of his Tackle attack. Sam gasped as sunlight hit his head. He was out of that room. He had escaped from one tiny prison (that he now had realized was a Pokemon Egg) into a larger prison, and now he was free. And the sunlight also seemed to be good for his new wing muscles, for he could feel energy seeping into the broken bones, almost HEALING them. Sam knew it wasn't the move Synthesis, for Yanma can't learn that move in the first place. It just proved how incomplete human research of Pokemon was.

And so Sam leapt back out into the world.

Sam had emerged in a wooded area, but when he rounded the large building he had been in, he gasped. He was still in New Bark Town! …But something was wrong. If he was truly in New Bark Town, then the run-down, decrepit building he had been in was… Professor Elm's Lab. What had happened? One additional thing Sam noticed was that in the vast sea of buildings (remember, everything looked twenty times bigger than it used to), there were usually pokemon flocking in the gardens that people often planted in their front lawns. Usually Combee and other cute pokemon, but now, not a single one was to be seen. Of course, the usual amount of people was around, but there were no trainers among them. Very strange. Sam was mostly concealed behind the building, so nobody saw him, but in his 360-vision, he saw some people trying to creep up behind him. Sam whirled around, stopping the two men in gray jumpsuits with nets in their tracks.

"Whoa, man! He saw us!" One shouted in terror, dropping his net.

The other spared no time for words and just ran. The other, paralyzed with terror just stood there, obviously waiting for something horrible to happen. Sam just looked at him questioningly, and opened his mouth to ask a question, when he realized that the man wouldn't be able to understand him, so he closed his mouth. But when Sam had opened his mouth, the man had flinched, as if he expected Sam to hurt him.

Then he seemed to unclench and took a tentative step towards Sam. Sam took a step forward as well, and the man squealed and hopped back, raising his net. Sam instinctively took to the air and flew away, wondering why the man had been so scared.

As he flew away, to the forest behind Professor Elm's lab, he heard the man sigh in relief."

Sam flew for a little bit, and then was surrounded by the beautiful forest. But something was different from the last time he had been here, as a human. It wasn't the size; for Sam had now realized the scale of change. No, it was the music of the forest. The Pidgey and Spearow singing their evening songs, the scuttling of Ledyba and Spinarak, and the whistling wind playing in the Jumpluff's limbs. The forest was silent. Sam remembered the men with nets and shuddered to think of what might have happened. Whatever it was, he was alone.

Utterly, completely alone.

_**END OF CHAPTER!**_

_**See? When I posted this, I told you this wasn't a waste of time, didn't I? And now I have you wondering the same things as Sam, I'll bet. **_**How? Who? Why? **_**Perhaps these will be answered later on…. Maybe! **_

_**Also, I said in one of my other stories that updates are sparse, and I wasn't kidding. Between three active stories and a plan to post a fourth, coupled with real life, this story won't get much attention, just warning you now.**_

_**But see you next chapter!**_


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